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lunarwits · 5 years

Text

Blister

Please read it here also https://archiveofourown.org/works/18660700

warnings of violence, cursing, death, description of violence, description of self violence

During this time of year, the emergency room always was humid. It soaked up the water in the air every time the sliding doors opened bringing in more bodies inside the enclosed space. The constant chatter around the room and the sweat that pours off the patrons which alway s cause d a claustrophobic feel to the space.

Doctor Jake Morgan was all too use to the sweat that clung to the back of his collars after standing in crowded room for more than a moment. He had spent much of his youth in the room, running from patient to patient as an intern and then later being in charge as he started his residency in the hospital. Tonight was not any different to any previously, he was tired, sweating through his shirt as he checked over a new victim that was rolled into the hospital on gurney.

He took in the statues of the patient, calculating mentally his scraps and bruising, while he also focused on the real problems. The man was brought in as a motorcycle crash victim, one of the most common crashes in the city, sustaining lacerations and bruising across his body but the real worry that he had focused around the man’s head. The cuts and bruising did not resemble that from a crash and his movements seemed lethargic, as if he was on something.

Jake frowned as he reached out and tipped the man’s head back, reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a small flashlight and shined it in the man’s eyes. He frown ed harder at the lack of reaction, there is no dilation of the pupils. The man gave no reaction as the nurses moved around him trying to get a look at the scrapes as they moved clothing and rubbed swabs against the cuts. Jake looked over to his left and caught the eye of one of his head nurses, “Get a blood test, he may be high on something that we don’t know about and until we know what, it is too dangerous to get him examined.”

She nodded her head and moved forward once he stepped back. Around them the room burst to life again as another patient was rushed in on a stretcher. He blinked slowly taking in the movement of the room and the sweat clinging to him . H e then reached a hand up and pulled the handkerchief he ke pt in his pocket to wipe his face, doing his best to wipe away the liquid.

A sudden exclamation brought his attention back toward the man that rested in front of him. Though he himself had backed away a few feet the two nurses he entrusted to care for the man had moved closer, each trying to do their own job for the patient. Maria, his brain supplied her name, seemed to have been doing as he requested, drawing the patient's blood to get it sent to diagnostics for a drug analysis. She was now wrestling with the man, an image that caused Jake to rush forward getting a hand planted on the shoulder of the patient and using the other to grab the arm that was struggling with Maria.

Jake was not a young man, he had been in his late thirties when he finally was accepted into his residency but that had been more than 15 years ago, he was not able to keep up the same health as he had then. He struggled with the other, around him he heard the other nurses shouting for security, or maybe it was police, he couldn’t focus on them as the man surged up again. It was unnerving when he realized that him and Maria were losing this struggle, both panting hard and hissing words of calm to the patient. The grip that Jake held on the man seemed to loosen each time the other surged up, with empty eyes and exposed teeth, deep in his mind it reminded Jake of his neighbors Doberman's who always growled at him passed their gates.

All it took from the patient is one well-placed thrash of his leg to knock Jake off balance, causing him to release the others hand which shot out to grab the needle Maria had been struggling to keep out of reach. Once in possession of the needle the man drew his arm back and stabbed it into his own neck, causing a sudden reaction of a squirt of blood and the sound of choking.

“No!”

Jake was quick to stumble to grab the others arm with one hand and with the other press against the bleeding wound, but he could already tell it was too late as the blood tricked through his fingers. Maria screamed as she also reached out to add her own pressure to the wound, but jump ed back as Jake shouted, “I need something to close the wound!”

With a choked sob, Maria stumbled back from them both, the man was already falling limp from the blood lose. Jake looked up at her with panicked expression and shouted, “Move!” His voice echoing across the now silent Emergency. He frowned at her as all she could do was shake her head, hands clutched to her chest. Only later he would realize that the man was past saving, the blood that dripped between his own fingers expressing that intent without words.

He turned back to focus on the man but as he looked at the other, he knew he had passed. The blood had stopped flowing not long after the realization, which allowed him to pull his hands back and stare down at the body. He let out a weak breath and raised his head to look at Maria and another nurse who had moved by her side, “Time of death,” he paused and flicked his eyes down to the watch on his wrist only to catch it covered in blood, unreadable under the red liquid. His stomach churned with distaste and he quickly looked to the clock above the exit, “10:03 P.M., someone call the P.D.”

With that he stepped from the body, and shaking lightly from adrenaline and panic, and turned to head toward the locker room in hopes of escaping the suddenly loud rush of voices that surrounded him.

Across town in another hospital two more similar disturbances occurred.

The call had come in at 10:07 P.M., just after Matt had crawled into bed. He hated late night calls, it always meant long nights away from home and sick criminals that made his skin crawl. He moaned loudly into the edge of his pillow before reaching for his phone and swiping to accept the call, “I just fucking left the office not more than 30 minutes ago, this better be important V.”

“Just got a call from the hospital, we need you to come back in,” Victor Harkness, his partner in most cases, responded sounding just as tired as he was.

“The hospital? What type of case do we have that would require us to go there,” he flopped over onto his side glancing at the clock that sat on his bedside table, which allowed him to focus his eyes on something besides the darkness around him.

“Dunno, I just got the call a minute ago. I am heading over to pick you up, be ready in five.”

The line went dead after that not giving Matt a chance to plead his case about staying in bed any longer. He dropped the phone on the bed next to him and grabbed the pillow from behind him and dropped it on his face then let out a yell of frustration. He finished his yell after a second and then threw the pillow against the wall and sat up to look around his room disgruntled.

He only allowed himself a few seconds of frustration before he brought his mind into focus. He climbed out of bed quickly and rushed through his room pulling out one of his suits quickly and dressed in it taking less time than it normally does to get dressed in the morning. Once dressed he moved out of his room toward the entry way where he kicked off his shoes when he first got home. He paused on his way to the entry way and stopped in the dining area to grab his wallet from the table and with that his gun belt and badge. With great skill he tugged the belt around his waist as he moved, he crossed the thresh hold of the entry way just as the door was knocked on.

He tightened the belt , so it sits on his waist perfectly and the holster rests on his right hip, gun still in its holster because he had been too lazy to put it away properly, and shouted, “Come in ! ”

The door was unlocked from the outside and pushed open revealing Victor standing on the step. Victor painted an impressive figure in with his 6’ tall and muscular frame, there wasn’t any question about why he was handpicked for this detail. Matt smirked as he shoved his feet into the work boots, they had both adopted to start wearing after a crime scene in the bogs.

“That couldn’t have been five minutes.”

“I may have lied, got you up and moving through didn’t it?”

Matt grimaced at him. He shoved his wallet and phone into his front pocket with one hand while he reached out with his other to yank his coat from the door handle of the entry way closet. Victor just shrugged his shoulders at the grimace and stepped back as Matt stepped out. He shut the door behind him and turned his back on Victor to lock it with the keys he had grabbed from the table he left by the door to catch anything he didn’t care about car ry ing farther into the home. Once done and now facing Victor again, they shared a look and moved down toward Victors car.

His car this time was not a patrol car, proving that he had gotten the call and then headed straight towards Matt’s home, instead parked at the end of his driveway was a sturdy grey pickup truck. It wasn’t as new of many of their co-workers but when Matt had first asked Victor shrugged and had told him that it had come from his father after he had passed away due to an unexpected heart attack. From then on Matt never commented on the older, hand-me-down items the other man possessed. They both entered the pickup after the short walk down the drive, and Victor started it and pulled back from the drive and then took off toward the Hospital.

The drive to the hospital was silent, the only things passing between their lips were Matt’s directions on the fastest routes and Victor telling him to shut up because he knew the way.

They pulled into the hospital parking lot, both men sucked in a shocked breath at the sight before them. The Emergency entrance was covered in police cars, around them people moved back and forth under caution tape and groups of civilians seemed to be congregating behind the marked off areas. They shared a look, one where a handful of words passed through their eyes but none through their lips, years of working together made them masters at reading each other's minds.

The pickup was put into park and turned off and in turn they both climbed out of the cab and moved toward the caution tape. They moved together in a silent harmony, both looking professional and focused once they reached the tape. One of the police nodded to them, someone Matt knew from the force when he had worked as a beat cop. Matt and Victor ducked under the caution tape and moved toward the emergency doors, which opened automatically for them.

The first thing he had noticed once the doors were open was the smell, it wasn’t like how normal dead bodies smelled, instead it was almost like a skunk had sprayed down the whole room. He gagged suddenly reaching up to cover his mouth and pinch his nose in disgust at the smell, “What the fuck?”

Next to him he heard Victor choke in response him grabbing the corner of his jacket to cover his nose and mouth in response. In front of him a voice cackled loudly and said, “Delightful smell isn’t it?”

“Cut the crap Marsh,” Matt responded his voice muffled behind his hand as he looked toward the Chief Medical Examiner David Marsh. Marsh was crouched on the ground hovering over a body that laid on its back in the middle of a large pool of blood. He stepped forward, eyes focused on the body, “What is that smell? It’s fucking horrifying.”

Marsh smirked and said as he looked over the body, “We are assuming it’s the blood, staff said that it started to smell like this about 3 minutes after the Vic stopped breathing,” he held out a cotton swab and wiped it into the blood on the ground and pulled it up, the blood clinging to the swab following it up almost like melted cheese, “Bloods an odd texture too, got some swabs set up and sent to the lab for analysis, just waiting to hear back.”

From behind Marsh a figure approached, average build and height the women that came into view did not seem like the t ype to be there, but Matt knew different. Avery McCullen was a spitfire woman, full of spunk and danger when it came time to doing her job as the head detective for the Police department’s homicide unit. She stopped a few paces behind Marsh, being the only one in the room seemingly unaffected by the smell as she said, “Harkness, Jones, nice of you to join us.”

Matt nodded to her respectfully before he dropped his hand putting on a brave face. He stepped closer to the body crouching down to look at the victim, “Chief. Can I ask what warrants two homicide detectives to look at one body?”

Avery nod ded back at Matt and sa id as she pulled out a note book from her suit jacket, the book likely stolen off one of the cops outside, “Vic is a twenty-year-old returning vacationer, clear background, just coming off a two month stay in the Caribbean, first thing he did when returning was wreck his motorcycle and then kill himself in a hospital emergency room. Twenty miles across town I have two other victims, similar circumstances, no clues. That’s three deaths with in four minutes of each other. The doctors that looked them over described all similar ta le s, unresponsive victim until they were to have blood drawn in which they responded by panicking and killing themselves. I need to know why.” She shut the notebook and turned her gaze on the two men before her.

Matt frowned and looked down at the victim again, his gaze shift ed as Victor lean ed over him, “How long until we get the blood back from analysis?” Victor held his hand out to Avery for the notebook, who slapped it into his palm. Cringing slightly Victor pulled it close and then passed it to Matt who was quick to open it again looking over the detailed scribblings inside.

“‘Bout, twenty-four hours, sooner if there isn’t any back up in the lab,” Marsh responded as he moved to tip the victims head to the side to show Matt the fatal wound. Matt frowned harsher at the wound, a sloppy hit, but lacking hesitation which most people who attempt such a violent suicide have. He used the notebook to lightly tap his chin as he shifted his weight to look over the body, taking in the discoloration around the mouth and na ils something that normally set in due to lack of body care.

He spoke, “Can you flip him over? I need to see his lower back.”

Marsh raised an eyebrow but nodded and called over to two of his lackies to help assist in flipping the body. Once the body was set on its stomach, Matt snapped his fingers holding his hand out to one of the lab techs for some gloves which he was given quickly. He shoved the notebook into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and then pulled the gloves onto his hands. Once gloved and crouched closer, Matt pushed up the man’s shirt and poked around his lower spine looking for the telltale signs of a needle point. It doesn’t take him long to find it, the skin brightly discolored, a deep yellow and green just above the victim's waist line.

He cursed and dropped the shirt and stood suddenly. His eyes moved from the victim to Avery, she stood with pursed lips trying to read his mind. Instead of addressing her, Matt t hen t urned his head to Victor.

The once again they seemed to share a silent conversation one that Victor did not seem to like the end of as he moved forward and crouched down to look at the victim too. The group stood in silence while Victor examined the victim. He moved to push up the others shirt, after he grabbed some gloves from a lab tech that stood close. It did not take long for him to stand with a disgruntled look on his face, not pleased with what he found on the victim’s lower back.

He then followed Matt’s example and let out a loud curse, “What the fuck. He is in prison! What is this?”

Matt shrugged his shoulders and looked at the other with a worried look, “I ’ m not sure, but this has to be him, all the same qualities and the smell is similar. Victim falls into his category.”

Avery held a hand out and said, “Whoa, hold on what are you two talking about?” She glared at the both, her eyes moved from one face to another almost as if she could not decide who to glare at totally for answers.

Matt sighed lowly and pulled off his gloves quickly holding them out to a close lab tech to grab. Once his hands were glove free, he pulled out the notebook that Avery gave him, “Back in the early 2000s there were a string of suicides, none of the victims had anything in common aside from the fact that they all killed themselves once a medical professional attempted to draw blood. Twenty-three people ended up taking their lives b efore the cause of the killings were revealed. They all were infected with a drug called Blister, a street drug that was used to block pain and sold off for a new high. Everyone was infected by the same dealer, Hendrick Ryan Junior.”

Avery nodded her head gravely remembering the case and slowly connecting what the other said to the current cases, “Blister didn’t cause these extreme circumstances, none of the blood or the victims reacted li ke these ones did.”

Matt nodded in agreement and continued, “You’re right, not in these cases but when we stormed his lab and arrested him, we found his previous notes on testing on earlier people, all of them seem to have reacted like this.”

Marsh spoke up as he stood up moving closer to the others, they all had moved together slowly as Matt had spoken, “I remember this, there were three vials found on scene, right?” He looked at the others and Matt nodded back, “but only two made it into evidence, the third was written off as being busted during transportation.”

Matt crossed his arms over his chest and the others turned to look at the body, “Yeah, but we had always had our suspicions about what really happened to the vial.”

Avery let out a breath and then turned back to Matt eyes narrowed and worry was clear there, “You’re saying that someone, on the force, took the vial and now have copied it an d is using it on unsuspecting victims?”

Matt’s face looked grave as he met Avery’s eyes, “That’s exactly what I am saying.”

“There is a copycat out there,” Marsh breathed out , a nervousness entering his stance .

“And he is a part of the Police force,” Victor continued eyes hardened by the fact , disgust clear on his face .

“And we have no idea who it could be.” Matt finished.

They all paused and then turned to look at the body that lay at their feet.

#writing #original story #AL writes #tumblr writers #Mystery #Action

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worldcakecakecake · 7 years

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Feliciano and the King of Hearts

Chosen by the gods as the Queen of Hearts from the moment of birth, we follow Feliciano’s story as he grows into royal life, learns to rule, go against age old customs, and his relationship with his husband to be, the King of Hearts.

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5 I Chapter 6I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 IChapter 9I Chapter 10 I Chapter 11I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15 I Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20 I Chapter 21 I Chapter 22 I Chapter 23 I Chapter 24 I Chapter 25 I Chapter 26 I Chapter 27 I Chapter 28 I Chapter 29 I Chapter 30 I Chapter 31 I Chapter 32 I Chapter 33 I Chapter 34 I Chapter 35 I Chapter 36 I Chapter 37 I chapter 38 I Chapter 39 I Chapter 40 I Chapter 41 I Chapter 42 I Chapter 43 I Chapter 44 I Chapter 45

Now this is actually the longest chapter :’D Another chapter I enjoyed writing and with a lot of information and I actually really recommend you skim through the story because a lot of details are put into play that most of you would have probably forgotten by now. Never the less, I hope you enjoy! This one is one of my favorite chapters and I was really excited to write it (There are many others I have in mind that I haven’t gotten to though, so expect them ;)).

Chapter 46

Feliciano groaned into the cover of his hands, a whimpering that had the three club royals wondering if he was crying, but one breath made them see that he wasn’t, just stressed, just a lot that he was slowly trying to make due with.

Feliciano was the only one who took sitting in the fall of a ruined pillar that belonged to another mural, the weight too much to make him stand, behind him the image of who he knew now as Augusta, with her own St. Mark, riding across a beautiful starry night sky.

“Augusta…Augusta, my great grandmother, Romulus’s wife, the last Italian queen of hearts before me, was the Ace of Hearts! She was the Ace of Hearts!” Feliciano seemed to keep wallowing, finding it hard to accept, to realize, only bringing him more question. He tried to connect in his mind, but some strings were still left hanging, some stories just didn’t mend with others, everything in this cave a proof.

“Yes, yes she was Feliciano,” Roderich assured him, joining the other three in calm expressions, all surrounding him, offering what they could in comforting words.

“But-but-but how? Why? How could she be a goddess? How could she also be a queen? How was she with my great grandfather? What are all these things? Why was it so important for me to know? Why do I appear in these images? What are those stars? What is that light she holds? Why is everything hidden here? Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t I know who Augusta is? Why did-” he streamed, quickly getting agitated, shaking, beginning to stand in a disarray that all three feared would just make him fall, disorientate and even faint. The three had to push him back into his sitting, wishing they would have brought some water to calm him down, but all they could do for now was sit with him, offer caresses to his back and arms, hoping they could steady his breathing and concentration.

“Feliciano, calm down,” Roderich tried.

“Calm down? I found out my great grandmother is a goddess, that the line of my family is of demi-gods and you want me to calm down?” Feliciano maddened. “I can’t, not when I have so many questions that need answers to!”

Elizabeta shushed him in a harsh grip, forcing him into shutting. “That’s what were here for Feliciano, to answer and explain everything that’s surrounding you,” she assured kindly. But it was so much, so much, a raining force that continued to fall heavily on the arising queen, so much to question and point, so much to hear and know. It was overwhelming him to a shock, to a paralyze of all his body that only continued to worry the three.

“How…-where do I even start?” Feliciano slumped in his stress, trying to rub the pain in his head away.

“How about…we just tell you everything…from the very beginning,” Roderich thought he could suggest, enough of a calm for Feliciano to sit straight, to be more open and ready, bringing them all more confidence to begin.

The three looked among each other wondering who could start, and so Ivan decided he was best, now that he was already standing before them, making his way to another wall covered by a large red wine curtain in the very encirclement.

“Feliciano…do you know the story of creation?” He asked without really looking at him, his hands taking the fabric of this curtain as he waited for his response.

It was a well repeated question from his teachings, from what he knew ever since he was a small child, so of course he answered like he was used to. “Ye-yes, the four aces created the four kingdoms to their image, the black and white kingdom as ones of union,”

“Wrong,” Ivan already decreed, which startled Feliciano.

In that moment, Ivan pulled the large curtain, letting it fall to ancient grounds so a whole new mural was shown. Not as tall as the one Pisa had made, yet still big enough, only showing two figures, a woman of white and a man of darkness, divided in a sort of world of only their two.

“It was actually Pisa and Keron who created them,” Ivan admitted.

“Ke-keron?”

“Khaos’s original name before the war of the blackened decades,” Elizabeta said.

“…They’re original gods?” Feliciano questioned with shock.

“Indeed. The writings say that the universe carved them in a process of decades, handing them ultimate power…and the hand of creation,” Roderich said, standing and pointing to the various images that held a light, the one Augusta held herself constantly throughout the cave.

“The hand of creation, as its name, is a fountain that gives ultimate power of creation to the holder. It was given to Keron and Pisa to share, but they didn’t do much with it, they simply created a space of their own, a small kingdom that they both shared and decided to live in solitude,” Elizabeta said, standing as she showed images of just the two of them, in their own sides, in their own riches, Feliciano following them as they told.

“At some point it became too lonely for them, and with that realization they set to test the true abilities of the hand of creation. They created the four Aces, Augusta being the very first one that they brought, along with Maiara, the Ace of Spades, Jabbar, the Ace of Diamonds and Artem, the Ace of Clubs.” Ivan moved them along to a mural showing the four Aces as little children, a sort of prophecy showing above them the representations of their own kingdoms.

“They were creations that they handed a semblance of power to, mainly to work as servants for them, each being handed their own group of angels to lead and help with the care of their small kingdoms and palaces,” Ivan showed tapestries of their order, of their angels, following under the same colors and forms the very Aces had been created in. “All held a grace of power and all the angels bowed before them as other gods, something that had made Keron extremely jealous, as so, it made him cruel to them. He lashed, he shouted, they suffered the anger of his power and thus they grew to be fearful of him…but Augusta…”

They moved to another mural of a child Augusta, in a beautiful dress, flowers in her hair, playing in a field of the first realm, with a smile that was much like Feliciano’s had been as a child.

“She was a very kind child, one who always found a way to remain with a joyful smile no matter the cruelness of Keron. She was imaginative, an artist, with a knack to create landscapes, buildings, images and stories to a world that she kept alive all through those first years. She learned to be a musician, especially after Pisa gifted her a harp, creating melodies, symphonies and lyrics to fill her spaces, having all come to sit and listen. She was dearly loved by all the other Aces, by the angels, by Pisa, who care for her like a daughter…and even Keron learned to adore her.” Elizabeta told, but her tone at that last mentioning was sad, like the beginning of something that was going to go wrong. She showed a little statue of Keron holding to the shoulders of a young Augusta, not like the comfort of a father and daughter, but of the empowering of master subjugating his slave.

“Augusta’s skill continued to exceed, the other Aces began creating their own worlds to join, to discuss in their gatherings and go on with dream. She herself grew, and thus turned into a woman of ultimate beauty in the heavens,” Elizabeta pointed to a painting depicting her bloom, a charm that even made Feliciano sway, seeing her with new flowers, enchantingly beautiful dresses of red with countless symbols, flows and even stars of the universe.

“And Keron…he grew to want her, and being impatient as he was, he was not ready to refuse any kind of disagreements from her.”

There was a tapestry of Keron holding to her in a harsh grasp, his touch poisoning, an evil gleam and smile as he took a breath of her hair. Augusta in this image cringed for an escape, wanting to be as far away as possible from his lust, looking away, greatly scared, a fear Feliciano shared in, worried as he brought his hand forward as if to help her.

“He was not worthy to become her first husband, for he continued to be as selfish, as cruel, as indifferent to the suffering of the other Aces, of the angels, even Pisa.”

“But…couldn’t she do something?”

“Despite having a share in the hand of creation, Keron had more control and knowledge of it, fearsome things that Pisa was too scared to go against. She was part of the kneeling to his words and wishes, fearing to do anything to disappoint him and feel his wrath.”

They passed a tile only for him, showing his reign of evil, tyranny and lust for power.

“Augusta was forced to marry him, a union she detested and spent miserably in for many years. He barely allowed her time to paint, to play her music, to create, and she did not stand how cruel he treated everybody else in their small realm. No matter what she tried to do, nothing changed him, nothing convinced him, and it only helped for hatred to grow strongly in her.”

A mural of her despair, of her cries, of her reach…to the light, the hand of creation.

“As a gift, a token, a show of his supposed love and to earn more of her acceptance to him, Keron granted Augusta entrance and watch to the hand of creation.”

“Did she…take it then?” Feliciano wondered.

“Not yet,” Ivan told, lighting another mural, all of Augusta reading, fighting, swinging swords and fists along with firing arrows in a normal bow. “It was an immediate thought that came to her mind, but she knew she couldn’t act brashly about it. Being under Keron, she had access to all kinds of readings he had made about the hand, and so she studied them, she learned every use of it, how to balance her power correctly with it and how to let the light accept her as a new owner. Other than this, she prepared for the worst of Keron’s anger once he realized what she would do, and so she mastered herself in the weapons they held, in any kind of defense, in fight, in plans that she slowly spread to the rest, preparing them all for an assault.”

“And how did she do it?”

“Unlike anyone had though,” Elizabeta smiled, ushering them forward to quite a beautiful tapestry despite the scene that was meant to be depicted.

“There was a dress Keron adored watching her in, a particular red one that revealed too much of her body, yet it was rich, with an elegance that could match with the scene of a palace and of her stringing to the harp. She shone beautifully that day, playing along a harmonious melody that she found calm in, Keron so enamored that he couldn’t bother to scold her, for once just sitting down to listen, and with that last note, with that last pull of her string, she shot him with a blast of strong fire.”

And that was exactly what this tapestry showed. The borders, the scene of the palace and of the heavens was decorated excessively, in flowers, vines, damasks, even shines of silver and gold, exalting the centering image majestically. It showed Keron struck by the shot, while Augusta sat on with her harp, a string pulled back enough to show the evidence of her doing, an expression full of determination and fierceness that made Feliciano proud.

“This one has to be one of my favorites,” Elizabeta smiled, a hand on her hip as proud as if she herself had made the action.

“It didn’t rid him as they hoped though, it only wounded him slightly, but the time given was more than enough,” Roderich said as he lead them to another large painting, of Augusta leading a large groups of angels as if to battle, the light she held high reigning well in the scene.

“All the Aces, all the angels, even Pisa joined in the raid to destroy Keron’s palace and weaken his own angels, and in the disarray, Augusta took the hand of creation. The hand, having seen Augusta’s mind, her soul, her spirit, her heart, into her bravery, order, kindness and imagination, granted itself as her possession and thus she became the new ruler of the hand of creation.” Roderich then presented a large mural showing her holding of the light, the very light granting her a crown, imperial robes and universal dominion to do as she pleased.

“As celebration, and Augusta seeing the hand’s need to create as it was meant to, she followed its call and joined by the other Aces, they all together began to form our world.” Ivan pointed to another mural from an old Clubian temple of that process of creation. It showed Maiara, Ace of Spades, form the lines of the Spade Kingdom, her aid with the sea, the ocean and the moon. Jabbar, Ace of Diamonds, create the powder of the desserts of the Diamond Kingdom, the carve of its capital and shores, and an aid with the light of day and the strength of mountains. Artem, Ace of Clubs, in the growing of the Club Kingdom, taking the largest space, only deserving after he aided in the fortifying of forests, trees and all kinds of jewels to decorate. And Augusta, Ace of Hearts, surprisingly created the smallest kingdom of the four, to her want of art and music, and with the hand of creation she gave the final blessing.

They went inside this temple, a shine of mosaics showing her form the very first humans and animals, the other Aces continuing with their own imagination. It showed as Augusta created the movements of the seas, of the wind, of the strong energy of magic in the air, the passing of night and day, the flows… blessing this world for the first time with plentiful and gracious life.

“It’s thank to her, no matter what kingdom were from, that we are standing here, that we all move, think, feel, with intentions and differences that continue to help this world spin,” Roderich admitted as he moved them out of the temple and back to see other relics.

“But…what about Pisa and Khaos?” Feliciano asked.

“Pisa was given her own space to create what was later the White Kingdom, the true kingdom of union and peace that all four aces wanted to symbolize for her after the love and care she had given them in the first realm. She remained there in a human guise, living among us, around the time even creating the mural we first showed you.” Ivan pointed to a statue showing Pisa in her own creation as the rest.

“Khaos on the other hand,” Elizabeta then pointed her torch to the frescoes of a ceiling, showing a large spherical field covering a land of darkness, a symbolic meaning with having Khaos taking a throne seat in the mountains inside it. “Feliciano, the journey to get the validity spheres, the locked field where they keep Khaos…was not the outcome of the war of the blackened decades, it has been there for many more centuries before it,”

“After the creation, after the Aces set the rules of order which proclaimed the kings, the queens and the jacks of their kingdom as watchers while they remained in their heaven, Khaos was taken prisoner,”

“In the…field?” Feliciano guessed.

“Yes,” Ivan continued, “the field is much older than we think, created by the very Aces instead of the rulers in the war of blackened decades as we had thought. You have to remember that Khaos is a god, older than the Aces, made by the universe instead of the hand of creation, as so, he’s powerful and it took a field of incredible power to be able to contain him, not in the heavens, but in our world, where his power can dwindle since he’s not exposed to the cosmic energy of the heavens, as well as caged in a human body. In there, he was granted the company of the angels who followed him, of even human creations that he made to obey to his command of tyranny, darkness and evil without the proper touch of the hand of creation.”

Now Feliciano understood their deathly and vicious aura that made them prominent if they stood outside the field.

“Now the field, it needs to keep running to keep him there, it needs continuous new energy every certain amount of time. The very first King, Queen and Jack of Hearts were the ones to offer this journey for the Aces, a duty that they set to continue on for generations in the ruling of the kingdom. They were accepted. The Kings, Queens and Jacks are the most powerful beings in our world since they are blessed with heavy power to compare to that of the Aces, they could accumulate more than enough power to keep energizing the field for centuries, a process that needed to be done at least every fifty years.” Ivan then light up a wall of metals showing the first ever journey for the Validity Spheres, the first ever created, even the first time humans placed them on the field in honor of the Aces.

Feliciano could identify King Fiorenzo, Queen Christa, their Jack being Rokurou at the time. Right by it there was a mural of Augusta handing the first ever empty crystal orbs to them from the heavens with a company of angels, which was a scene that awed Feliciano but had him staring in confusion. The Aces never presented themselves in their world.

“For many centuries, for many new generations of rulers, the world was a peaceful one, full of prosperity, an occasional conflict caused by Khaos’s men that they all did well to solve in their own ways. There was a good connection with the Aces and angels, their blessing and presence quite alive even if they denied themselves constant entering, just watching by the mirror and gates that were their portals, only used on the act to befall their decisions and changes.”

Gates that were constantly alive through different kind of stories of the Aces. A tapestry in the cave showed it exactly, intricately made, with flowers, jewels, columns and arches that would surely make any entire city envy.

From there on different stories of Augusta were presented throughout those years, like one of children spotting her play her harp in a hidden meadow, giving blessings to famous heroes of the kingdom, aiding them by sending storms or sunshine in their favor or joining them herself in battle, as well as appearing as a voice to help those that are troubling or helping to unite lovers of impossibility. One of Feliciano’s favorite had to be the one where she tamed a vicious and wild St. Mark that had been terrorizing a village, showing how she befriended it, giving it status of holiness and letting him join in the heavens by her side. From there on, her image was accompanied by him, along with the holiness of large wings to match her pet’s, a sun crowned halo, a surrounding glow, symbols upon symbols moving and living like flowing blood on her skin, in the heights of her power, especially when she needed aid from the hand of creation.

“His name was Fabius,” Elizabeta introduced.

“Is that…by any chance…Pookie?” Feliciano wondered, the little mentioned lion yawning that particular moment, still taking his rest upon Feliciano’s shoulder as he had done this entire time.

“The writings did mention that one would come to your aid, but we do not think it’s Fabius,” Ivan said.

“There’s a great chance that it might actually be his son,” Roderich assumed, just as the St. Mark seemed to nod proudly, nuzzling into Feliciano’s neck as he petted him. Incredible how a creature from the Aces could be so gentile, calm and playful, making Feliciano question if indeed he was the son of Augusta’s own fierce one, but it just made sense with his power, welcome, and the particular moment he came into his life.

“Now…for the stars,” Ivan wanted to start, a more serious intent on his tone as he pointed to the Verissimus chart that hanged above them once again.

Ah yes, the continuous stars that had appeared in the floors of all the palaces, a constant symbol around the relics of the cave…one that had even appeared in Feliciano’s dream.

“What…what are they?” Feliciano could finally ask, looking intently to them, somehow trying to get it himself, but it just seemed too complicated, especially when he was just finding out about this.

“The stars symbolize a moment when the universe is at complete balance, in which everything under its creation is surged with new power. In a way, it’s great for growth, for plentiful crops, weather, and more magical energy to arise in our air,” Elizabeta started.

“But…it means that both Khaos and Pisa’s power increases, an outburst that can release them from their human guise into our world, incredibly dangerous to those with a mind as dark as Keron’s,” Ivan warned.

“The hand itself had warned Augusta with visions about what was to come, of the great prosperity or great destruction that could befall our world once those stars aligned.” Roderich continued. “So, with the calculations done by a Heartian astronomer, Severinus Verissimus, a day was pinpointed for when it would come and Augusta decided that she would live among the humans for that time to face Keron herself. She was reborn in the Italian province in Hearts, a province that she held dearly to for it was the first and she showed more of herself in it than any other. She was given to a farm family in Barga, who were honored at being chosen and bringing growth to a new kind of human Augusta.”

Vases showed her rebirth, growing with this new family, doing things like farming, playing and meeting with Fabius, who couldn’t leave her behind even as a human. It showed her large mind, always learning, always practicing her power and knowledge of combat, but also painting, sculpting and playing the harp that she still kept with her.

“Leaving the heavens to the human world meant that she had to leave behind the hand of creation…who started making quite some decisions on its own,” Elizabeta told, which earned a worried glance from Feliciano, fearing the worst, but Elizabeta smiled to show him that it hadn’t been anything dire. “The hand chose her as Queen of Hearts, quite a surprise to her after seeing the mark, after the processes she had to go through being just a supposed farm girl to those who didn’t know in the kingdom. Now, being queen meant that she would have a king chosen for her by the hand, a quite particular one.”

Ah yes, Feliciano’s great grandfather, the acclaimed Romulus. He was wondering when he would come into the picture. What was his real side of the story? What parts did he play to the coming star alignment? And what was the truth of his relationship with the Ace of Hearts?

“As we all know, Romulus was a bastard and orphaned boy scavenging the streets of Rome, dirty and with nothing. Yet even with his circumstances, he was joyous, always accompanied with a boisterous laugh. He was also daring, brave, an air of nobility despite being from the streets. It was quite a shock for all to see that he was chosen as the next king, and so many had thought that he was unworthy of having the Ace’s affections…but…” Ivan smiled, so did the rest, showing then a painting of the first time Romulus and Augusta had met, as mere children, forced to interact after their discovery as future rulers of the kingdom. Romulus seemed so shy and nervous, wanting instant hiding from those beautiful eyes that seemed to inspect him fully, while Augusta stood just as impressed, as curious, a call for more from this boy and what he could do as her future king.

“They instantly befriended each other, with intense care and devotion that went through any barriers their world could place against them. Even in their own eight years of separation as tradition, they remained with a small connection, a letter for each of their birthdays. Even apart their relationship grew, and when they finally met again to begin their arising, a new spark had grown, something new was between their feelings that were not for mere friends.” Elizabeta alighted a new tapestry, of them meeting once again as adults, with a new kind of impression, eyes lost in new kinds of wants, a begging in the shake of their hands for something much closer.

“As their apprenticeship continued, as they learned and practiced together,” Roderich pointed to an unfinished metal work for a gate that showed all their kind of training, readings and discovery of new kinds of power, magic and energy. “Augusta realized that she fell in love with him, and Romulus shared those very feelings for her, in great devotion, sacrifice, and unlike any kind of force that Augusta knew.”

And so started a collection of paintings and murals dedicated to their love, showing their dances, their singing, Romulus granting her many gifts of flowers, of jewelry, poetry, even failed paintings that earned laughs from her. The romance between his great grandparents was absolutely beautiful, making Feliciano dreamy, lost to the imagining of more adventures between them, based on tales he had heard from his very family.

“After her horrible first marriage to Keron, Augusta was honestly quite scared of the kind of chains a lying love could give her. Love had a bad image to her that she never wanted to repeat, never wanted to go through again, but Romulus made her consider all her words, made her crave that romance and that closeness to somebody that she could trust, a person she could truly be happy with and even consider a dear friend as well. So when Romulus came to her, singing the famed ‘If you accept to be mine’ as a proposal for marriage, she gladly accepted and thus for their crowning they were also married.”

One of the largest paintings in the cave presented their marriage under an altar, both dressed in regality, jewels and power, Augusta wearing such a dress that almost made Feliciano melt under the gleams of its beauty. The image centered in the wear of their rings and crowns, officiating their marriage and officiating their rule of the Hearts Kingdom, blessed ultimately with the presence of an Ace.

“We should also add that the first time Romulus sang her ‘Accept to be mine’, it was a complete disaster,” Elizabeta laughed.

“The words horribly rhymed, in his nervousness he forgot many of the verses, he broke a string of his own guitar and the writings say he even stopped half way, having given up to embarrassment,” Roderich added.

“Augusta laughed, picked her own harp and helped him continue the song, completing it to as we now know it,” Ivan pointed to an old parchment paper resting on the hands of a statue of Romulus. As Feliciano got closer, he noticed that the old decaying thing was actually the original papers it was written on, the lyrics and melody clear, bringing Feliciano a temptation to sing it that instant.

“The writings say they sang it often, as whispers, as shouts that could be heard well throughout the castle halls, when they went out, when they practiced, a melody that the kingdom began to know and so it spread, and so the whole world knew of their dedicated romance…it even reached Keron.” Elizabeta pointed to another mural of his anger, full of vengeance and a need to kill as showed by his harsh grip on the throne he took, a looming danger with the stars slowly aligning unto the day. “Don’t be misled, Romulus and Augusta still kept their focus on the day those stars will aligned, they still strengthened, they still learned and Augusta received a great addition to her knowledge from her time living with humans.”

“On that year of the alignment though, Augusta birthed two sons, twins,”

“Filippo and Cecilio,” Feliciano knew, constant names in their history and the telling of his family, after all Filippo was one of his great grandparents, the one who returned to Barga to begin and repair the plantation after the war, while Cecilio stayed to care for the castle…or so Feliciano knows and hope was the case.

“Exactly. It was the height of Romulus’s happiness. He had everything, it was all perfect…so he grew fearful of losing it all. Augusta, his sons, their love, their life…he was willing to do anything to keep it like this, to continue to give them everything,” Roderich grew a saddening tone that Feliciano was not liking at all. “So on the day they were supposed to leave to fight, to be ready to face Keron near the field…Romulus refused Augusta to come along in deep fears of losing her…so…he used power of the validity spheres to keep her, along with their twins, locked in the Heartian palace so she wouldn’t come along and so she could stay safe.”

“But…but…the whole point for her rebirthing as a human was to face Keron herself! Why would he do this?!” He was as shocked as surely his great grandmother would have been.

“Like I said, dreading the thought of losing her. He was determined to face Keron’s wrath himself, thinking he was strong enough, not understanding the magnitude of what Keron was going to be granted.” Roderich then showed a painting of Romulus with an army making his way, with proud armor, weapons, flags…just like any other painting that was outside the cave about his triumph in the war.

“He-he beat him at least, right? After all, he’s the great hero of the war, that’s the point of his stories, that’s how he got known, that’s how he’s known to my family, how I know him…he-he had to…” Feliciano wanted to hope, wanted to think, shaking and even dreading the next words they were to say.

“Feliciano…this was before the war,” Roderich wanted to ease.

“Nobody, not even Augusta, expected what was going to happen…” Ivan continued, then showing an old decaying fresco of a large, intimidating, vicious and dark…monster. It was like a towering shadow, enough to cover the smallness of a village under his feet, with sharp teeth, eyes, claws, symbols upon symbols of hunt that only shook Feliciano with more fear.

“Wha-what is that?” He backed away, scared to even continue looking at it.

“That’s Keron’s escape from his caged human guise, the form he was granted with the pulse of the universe, more than enough power to break his bonds of the field and unleash his anger, with plans to destroy completely the creation of the Aces in his revenge.”

“It was an image of complete terror. The writings say that people died by merely watching him, and if not, they suffered under his power, under the war he had created in his shadow of killing, sucking the life and color of everything that was blessed by the hands of the Aces. It was utter chaos, which is how he got his new name,” Elizabeta explained. “Romulus’s army was not ready for this kind of immensity, many fell, only a handful survived to be able to take part in the writings, but with horrible damages that they suffered throughout the rest of their lives.”

“But Romulus, what happened to Romulus?” Feliciano begged to know.

The three grew nervous to say, Elizabeta taking that breath, ready to be the one to let Feliciano know this other detail.

“The writings say he fought on bravely, never for a moment stopping the swing of his sword, the intensity of his fire, of his spells and magic, but…it wasn’t enough…he died in the confrontation,” she declared, which brought a new surge of shock to Feliciano, bringing him a sudden weakening, a watering to his eyes, a hurt that seemed to still his heart.

“N-no, no…no he couldn’t have, they always told us he died of old age, he…continued to live, in the richest he earned after his triumph in the war, no, no, no,” he refused, the room spinning as tears welled more in his eyes.

“That’s…what they wanted people to think…but it wasn’t the actuality,” Roderich told, looking over to a painting of Romulus��s last approach to Khaos before he was succumbed into darkness, another mural showing how Khaos sucked his power, his life, a body to burn along with the disarray of others who suffered.

“Augusta had felt him disappear, she felt his light diminish and be gone from the face of the world, and that’s when her great despair started.”

Another painting, unfinished, showed her wallowing with an intense scream, kneeling before the floor, her face messed with tears and sorrow, her shadow seeming to be touched by Romulus’s loss of blood from afar. The tears that verged on Feliciano’s eyes fell, as if it he was retaking Augusta’s very own suffering. No, no, as more images were shown, of the kind of destroy that her emotions and soul went through after losing her dearly beloved, Feliciano realized that he could only reach to feel half of it. No such misery could compare, no such pains could be reached. Feliciano saw as each statue, painting and mural did the very light disappear from Augusta, gone along with Romulus.

“The loss made her weak, a breaking that even affected her magic and power, a pure misery that continued to reign within her…for thirty years.”

The next images were those of the true disaster of the known war of the blackened decades, but the blood, the ruin, the burning, unlike anything Feliciano had thought this war had brought. It was an agony, an obliterating that ripped apart into nothingness the world he know of beauty, prosperity and life. It only worsened his tears, his disarray, covering his face as if he could feel the stench of death looming high.

He always thought it had been mere battles, a force that should have been easy for his great grandfather Romulus to defeat…not this monster, not this utter bring into debris, of darkened lands left behind in poison and smoke, rivers and lakes drained, colors disappeared and nothing strong enough to stand against the now monstrous Keron.

“What about the other Aces? What about the angels? What about Pisa? Didn’t she get an outburst because of the alignment too?”

“None of the other Aces could do a thing, they sent as many aids to the human world, even angels that helped in backing, for many to survive longer, to hold out and even create distractions, but they weren’t enough, it wasn’t his unreachable potent.”

“Pisa was indeed granted her own power and a battle surged between them trying to subdue the other, but in one miss, in one failed attempt by Pisa, she was done for. She died, her kingdom perished completely without repair alongside her as we normally know.”

A mural showed that fight, Keron’s large dark monstrous shadow, while Pisa was a large angelic white, but the darkness took control of it, she was extinguished under him, a shriek, terror in her face that made Feliciano almost hear it as he passed hurriedly by it.

“And…Augusta?”

“She was consumed by her sadness and for a great length of the war all she did was remain in the castle, too weakened by her emotions, sending men after men, witches, wizards, angels, even all kinds of creatures to try and stop him, but none returned well, and year by year, the chance for an arising against him seemed much more bleak. Many had succumbed to knowing that their world was coming to an end and even Augusta was firm about it, waiting for the day that Khaos would finally extinguish everything until reaching Rome where she sat, his final goal.”

“He was willing to give her an offer though…the return of the hand of creation, marriage once again to him, and by his side in the ruling of his new world, but Augusta decided she rather perish than live so unhappily and betray Romulus even in his death, even with the years that passed of her watching the world she had helped create break more day by day.”

Feliciano was getting agitated, reaching a hand to a tapestry of her as if he could help console her, awaiting by her throne for Khaos’s soon reach to kill her.

“But even though Augusta seemed like she was ready to give up, there were many others who still hoped.” Elizabeta then pointed to ancient flags, showing the forms of seven figures, surely key. “The Queens of the time, Queen Adrian of Clubs, Queen Ailen of Spades, Queen Sabah of Diamonds, her very two grown sons, prince Filippo and prince Cecilio, and…her very jack,”

“Soren Sylvaster,” Feliciano knew, he was just as mentioned in the stories.

“Actually…his real name was Soren Beilschmidt.”

Feliciano’s steps halted, turned to them with widened eyes, filled with both intrigue and question.

“Beilschmidt?” Feliciano wanted to be sure.

“Indeed,” Roderich smiled, clearly proud of that part of his own heritage.

“Like Beilschmidt, Beilschmidt?”

“Yes! He’s Ludwig’s own ancestor,” Elizabeta added.

“The…jack of hearts?” It was surprising, he didn’t think his family had that connection to the Beilschmidts for so long. As he gazed to a tapestry showing Soren’s appearance, he noticed his strength and stature, bald but with a prominent blond beard. Feliciano could take hints to the same facial structures that most Beilschmidts held. Give him slicked back blond hair, shave that beard and one could see Ludwig.

“Yes, and just as loyal to her as Romulus had been,”

“Augusta cared for him dearly, like a good friend, sometimes even a brother. We suspect that it was because of that relationship that she granted his linage to hold the kingship of the kingdom.”

“Along with the other queen’s perseverance and her own two sons, they tried to convince her to fight, after all, it was her duty, the reason for her rebirth. They had to regain her once liveliness so her magic could rise, a magic they believed would be enough.”

“And did it work?” Feliciano began to hope as they had.

“At first, no, a sickening that none of her two boys could stand any longer, so…they decided to go to the war themselves and face Keron. After all, they were sons of an Ace, they were confident.”

“And they really did?”

“Actually, no. Augusta couldn’t take watching her boys leave to something so drastic alone, lose them as she had her husband, so finally…she went along.”

“With the Queens, with Soren, and with an army of soldiers they had gathered from Rome, Augusta led people to reclaim the burned lands that Khaos had taken, defeating those of Khaos’s men that remained, restoring back its color, its liveliness, giving back its control to its mayor, governors, people coming back to refresh, to build, to have their crops grow and try to live on, knowing that Augusta was fighting, traveling the lands, saving provinces after provinces.” Elizabeta then showed many countless of paintings with Augusta’s trajectory, her harp bow firing, on the back of her St. Mark, Fabius, with a cry for a war, a war to defend this time, Feliciano watching with each painting as her power strengthened in each battle, a return to her force as an Ace that many had seemed to forgotten. Always by her side fighting was Soren, along with the other Kings, Queens, Jacks, her sons, and a trail of soldiers of different kingdoms and provinces offering themselves to fight for their world, all until their final meeting with Khaos.

“She continued on fury, in her own vengeance, bloodthirsty, violent, a fierceness that no one had known she could turn into. She wouldn’t take proper rest until Khaos was defeated, for putting her world at risk, her loved ones, her Romulus, and it only helped to make her stronger, for her power to grow.” Ivan pointed to a large statue of her, dirtied, cut and ripped from the damages of war, yet her face and stature was still as determined, intent in the way she held her harp, even a sword a her other side.

“They had driven Khaos back, away from his goal to face Augusta in Rome, until he had no other choice than to stand for himself right before the field she had imprisoned him long ago.”

A tapestry showed that commence, that preparation, Augusta dressed in her own specific armor, harp at her side, ready to move forward to the large monstrous thing alone.

“The battle had been massive. The writings say it took various hours for a clear result, a large part of the field destroyed in the process, as well as many of Augusta’s men and women falling.”

Murals and tapestries showed that encounter, Augusta’s figure a shining sun light breaking apart Khaos’s darkness, sun arrows piercing well, a feral look in her eyes wanting nothing but to completely succumb him.

“For many it was a fest, for Augusta used skill upon skill to weaken him, trying new things that surged at the moment that nobody had thought possible. They watched as some had failed, as Khaos would hit back, but Augusta would strike harder, on and on, until finally-”

“She defeated him!” Feliciano excited.

“In a way, yes.” There was doubt in Roderich’s tone though. “She had weakened him enough to remove his powers, with it creating a new field to imprison him, returning him once again to his human guise and officially putting his rampage to an end.”

From there on the images were those of triumphs, of Augusta ruling at the post of a battlefield, proud, ruling, countless around her celebrating, but despite this relief, the grandeur…she still seemed sad. She didn’t shout, she didn’t jump or sing with the rest, if anything she even seemed scared.

“She was…the real hero of the war…wasn’t she?” Feliciano realized as he let his hand trace one of the images.

“Yes, she was,” Elizabeta assured.

“Why doesn’t…why doesn’t anyone acknowledge this then? Why was her meaning…erased like this?” Feliciano still wondered, broken that such an important story, one of their history, of themselves, wasn’t better known, instead buried in this cave and continued in the world above in silence for several centuries.

“That’s what were…about to get into,” Elizabeta began to introduce, meeting with a large painting showing Augusta in her Ace form, supreme, glowing and powerful. “You see, Augusta hoped…that Khaos hadn’t truly killed Romulus, but taken his spirit and soul since it did hold some energy because of the union of his power with Augusta, something to aid him, something to help bring more ruin to the world. She thought if she defeated him, then he would be released, but…”

“It didn’t happen. Romulus remained lost in an uncertain plain that she couldn’t reach, not into the cycle of acceptance into their heaven. She was never going to receive a meeting with him, so one of the reasons she couldn’t celebrate was because she didn’t earn her Romulus as part of her had hoped.”

“So…she began to heavily honor him. She prayed, she continued to mourn, had songs, stories, paintings, murals, even temples made for him, as a way to make his memory alive, hoping…hoping it would be enough to return something to her. The more it didn’t work, the more she tried to hide her own importance in the war if it meant it could be given to Romulus, for enough worshiping energy. When her time as human ended, she begged to not have many symbols of her, to focus on ROMULUS, TO DEDICATE ALL THE STORIES TO HIM, WHICH IS WHY WE ALWAYS THOUGHT THAT Romulus Was the true hero of the war, a story we took to truth and history.”

“Even after she died, many continued to make murals and portraits, against her wishes, so King Iolanda, three generations afterwards, had decree this cave be made to hide everything that existed,”

“Willing to just erase our history?” Feliciano was rather insulted.

“It was Augusta’s very wish,” Roderich defended.

“As well to keep people from panicking over Augusta’s very last words,” Ivan continued, halting them all to a moment of opportune.

“Her last words? She couldn’t have just died, she’s an Ace, with her end in the human world, shouldn’t she just have returned to the heavens?” Feliciano assumed, hoping and even sure that it had been the case.

“Well…” Elizabeta tried to word in her nervousness, gazing over to the others hoping for some inspiration how exactly they should tell him this next part. “First of all, Feliciano…that star alignment… wasn’t the last one…”

Feliciano found meaning enough to fear, for a shiver to paint over him. “Wha-what?”

“It’s a common natural phenomenon in the universe that repeats every so thousand years. Augusta was clear about that, she knew that Khaos’s form would return for the next one. After all, she did defeat him, putting him back in the field along with his human guise, but she didn’t kill him…and he’s well enough to receive the same surge once again, to create havoc as he had done.”

Feliciano’s mind flashed with the images of monstrosity, shaking him to whimpers, wrapping his arms around himself to try and block from more continuing in his thoughts.

“She knew, that many more years from her own, that she would have to face him yet again, with stronger power, fierceness and intent on truly ending him. But she knew she wouldn’t be strong enough, and no matter how much she would practice for those next thousands of years, it wouldn’t be enough, it will end with the same results or with her own death.”

“She needed more power, energy, magic, and so she formulated a plan to get it.”

Yet another mosaic of Augusta holding the light, with ever imperial stature, yet this time, under her, was the image of a new baby…receiving all her power.

“The reason why Pisa and Khaos received that surge was because they were creations of the universe, unlike her who was a creation of Pisa and Khaos. But in her holding, she had the hand of creation, which we know was also an item of the universe. She knew that she needed that very surge from the universe to beat Khaos, and her ultimate help would be the very hand of creation, becoming one with it, turning completely into its person until she herself could count as a creation to the universe.”

“Why didn’t she think about it earlier?” Feliciano questioned.

The rest shrugged, “she didn’t think dealing with Khaos would be so disastrous, and it was only after the results that the very hand suggested this idea and that she had the information and skill to do it.”

“But turning into the hand of creation wouldn’t be enough either, she knew certain time was needed, she knew a certain creation had to take place, one she couldn’t do…one that could only be possible in the continuation of her lineage in our world.”

And this is where the three gazed to Feliciano, as if he was the painting, mural, tapestry or mosaic that would explain enough to the story now…that baby that constantly appeared.

“Before she died, she warned that a new alignment would come, she warned that Khaos would rampage again, this time with more ferocity. All who had been around her had hoped that she would just rebirth to face him yet again, but she told them instead that a great grandson would.”

Feliciano was weary about what they were going to continue saying.

“She told them that instead of returning to the heavens, she would transfer herself, her power, her magic, into her own linage, one that would start with the birth of her granddaughter, Sebastiana.”

“Wait, I’m confused, did she …actually die or is alive through our lineage?”

“In a way, both,” Ivan answered to Feliciano’s uneasiness, but his answer made him remain with the same question in his eyes and expression.

“She ceased to be able to send herself and the very hand of creation she became to regain more energy from her family members as they would remain in this world with essence of the universe, being sent and added through the creation of birth in our world, from child to child to child.”

The clarity was seen more in Feliciano’s face, but there was a sudden worry that was nearing. He knew something was coming.

“She warned that there wouldn’t be any more Italian queens after her…and she prophesized that thousands a year from her time, twenty years before the next alignment is to come…a new Italian queen will be chosen from her line, who will be born in Barga as she had once done, to live within the one with the highest of the Vargas lineage power, the one that will receive the surge of the universe along with Khaos…to face him and stop him once and for all and then take their place as the new Ace of Hearts and even the hand of creation…”

Feliciano shook, he trembled, fearing that his whole body would soon hit ground, to unconsciousness that seemed more comforting.

“And that is you, Feliciano.”

He fell and had been lucky that Roderich and Ivan were there to catch him, to stand him, placing balancing arms on his back to keep him from wobbling more, the torches close to keep his eyes awake. They really regretted not bringing any food or water, for he paled and grew ever the lighter, on a brink to wanting to let himself be spirited away from the sudden meaning and responsibility that was held in himself.

“A-Ace-Ace of Hearts? Ha-hand of creation? I-I have to-have to…face Khaos in the next alignment?” His breath worsened, slumping and sweating as if he had run miles around the cave.

“Yes, you are the strongest in your lineage as you have proven enough, with Augusta residing within you, having grant you this power and position,” Elizabeta told.

“With enough training, we believe you can manage to defeat Khaos,” Roderich seemed sure and Feliciano was surer about hitting the ground soon as another tiring wave went through his head. They had to force him into a sitting, Roderich taking out a fan to flap at his face trying to give him enough air.

“Kha-Khaos, I have to-I have to…face Khaos like…that!” He pointed to another tapestry showing another depiction of the monstrous form he took the last alignment. It made Feliciano tremble the more, the rest having to focus his eyes away from it.

“You have the power within you to do it!” Elizabeta believed.

“Augusta as well within you to aid,” Ivan tried to help, even placing a soothing hand on his shoulder.

“She could have begun to aid me long ago! She could have told me! Yet never a thing! Always leaving me with questions and silence, and when I finally get answers, all of a sudden I have to deal with saving our world, becoming a god and even a powerful item of the universe, just like that!” he angered, trembling into tears, Elizabeta sitting with him to shush and rub her hands over his arms and back.

“Maybe…it isn’t the proper time, maybe Augusta is waiting to properly contact you,” Elizabeta tried to make him realize.

“And this isn’t a proper time?” He whimpered, neared to a shout. “Don’t I need proper training and teaching? How can I get it when there’s no one else in the world with this kind of power and there’s no writings about it!” He frustrated, yet again Elizabeta seeing Feliciano in responses that didn’t fit him, rare and saddening, just making her wish that she had all the answers to give him in this matter. “A god? A god! She wants me to become a god! Does she expect me to leave behind my world like that? To just…know everything to face and kill someone with that much dark power.” He extended his arms, opening his hands as if he could see all that magic, confusing and loaded with ultimate creation and not a clue on what to do than what he was taught with books and teachers. It pained him to know that none of that would be enough, that he’d had to find a way by himself, and how could he? How could he deal with his queenly duties as well? All those people…all those creatures…all their world…its protection, its future, in his hands, heavy and prominent, and Ludwig…Ludwig…Ludwig…he crashed into tears yet again, all breaking and making it seem like his whole body was sobbing.

There were no more words they could give, only silence, Elizabeta leaning to give him an embrace, Ivan and Roderich continuing with their pats, as long as Feliciano needed to break from this.

“When…when?” He suddenly asked in his tremors, not yet daring to show his worsened tear stained face.

“When what?” Elizabeta questioned.

“When is the next alignment?” He practically whispered, surely scared.

They all sigh knowing that it would add to the heaviness of the duty, but it was important, pointing over to the Verissimus chart over them, the calendar stretching out to show two of these star alignments. The first they knew had passed, clear with its year and even time, then there was the next one, calculated and established, a sure one that Feliciano knew would remain marked in his head until that day.

“…a year from now,” Roderich realized, even the fear reaching him.

“Shortly after your twentieth birthday as Augusta said,” Ivan added, which only worsened Feliciano’s state, so sick and even deadly that Elizabeta couldn’t deal with it any longer.

“I’m sure the writings have something about proper training, we’ll properly search and hand you anything we deem might be helpful. But it’s a year from now, and right now you should be focused on placing the Validity Spheres tomorrow, it assures us that year to prepare, strengthening the field and perhaps even weaken Khaos when he breaks out.”

“Your orb must be the strongest one there has been for centuries, it would probably even give us more hours before Khaos breaks out,” Roderich added.

“Gives us good enough time to ready our armies,” Ivan already trusted.

“Armies?”

“Of course,” Ivan assured.

“We’ll begin preparations as soon as you head back to Berlin,”

“Well…that is…if you accept that the news should be diverged,” Roderich reminded.

“…I can decide if I want this to be known or not?”

“The writings did say that afterwards the cave is yours to do as you please, but to be wary on how people would react.”

Feliciano remained silent as he gave it thought, a serious dedication that Roderich couldn’t help but feel proud about, knowing that he was thinking logically and thoroughly. He had grown, a certain maturity in his mind had been reached that was thinking well of the outcomes and implications as a queen should.

“I believe…it should be told, but gently and slowly, it’s not something that most can easily learn to accept and adapt, but I don’t believe only Clubs should remain with that burden, the rest of the kingdoms would have to…prepare for a war.” Of course he was scared of the word, of its heaviness and surely coming threats, but the more they were prepared for it, the more casualties can be avoided. “I’ll…call for a meeting to tell my castle and then write messages to the rest of the kingdoms and provinces. They’ll ready what they can… we have a year. I’ll…search for readings and do what I can to learn about my power.” He was shy, rubbing his hands unsure if it was enough, if it could work, if the rest of the kingdoms can accept the contents of this cave to be open, without the panic that their ancestors had worried about.

“But…we shouldn’t fret for now, it’s a matter to focus once you return from the field. I know it’s hard but…we really have to try and get some sleep now. We have to create the Validity Spheres, you have to leave, head to the field and finally back home.” Elizabeta smiled as she caressed the side of Feliciano’s face, a suggestion she shared to her two other companions, who nodded and agreed that it was best for now to head to their rooms.

“Come along, if you ever need to come back here just ask any of us, we all know the spell of entrance from the hall,” Ivan offered, his torch leading them out, back until they found the stairs, a high climb that made Feliciano internally groan. Roderich went first, then Elizabeta, then Feliciano, leaving Ivan behind to stand alone, looking among the many relics in the cave…but not giving any other step to continue upward with them.

“There’s…something else we forgot to mention,” Ivan reminded, his gaze now strongly on an image of Romulus, young, vivacious and headstrong.

The rest stopped in their own step, looking back, attentive, although Feliciano groaned once again. What more was there to say? Hadn’t this all been enough to stress him and probably keep him awake at night?

“There’s…a letter.”

Elizabeta and Roderich’s eyes widened in realization, not believing that they had almost forgotten.

“What letter?” Feliciano immediately broke the silence.

“In the chest with all the writings, there was a letter addressed to Ludwig.”

“To Ludwig?”

“Well…not specifically Ludwig, the front said that it was meant for whoever would be king to you.”

“What’s in it?”

“We don’t know,” Roderich said.

“Huh?”

“We weren’t allowed to, our only duty was to send it to him before his eighteenth birthday.”

“But-but…why? If it was in the chess of writings the surely it has to do with Augusta, so shouldn’t you all be allowed to?”

“The thing is Feliciano…the letter was written by Romulus.”

Just when he thought things would be clear. Now another question reigned on his head, another worry, another persisting, wondering, connecting and trying to guess its contents and how it had to with Augusta and her plans if it meant that it was addressed to Ludwig. But…something didn’t make sense…why would Romulus send a letter to Ludwig when he died before he knew about what Augusta decided with their lineage? What could he have possibly written to a future king? Was it what…Ludwig was trying to hide from him? The reason for his acting and change? Finally a point, finally a nearing, maybe- his head hurt, there was a pang, he was tired, he was close to taking rest in that very step if it meant immediate sleep.

“Let’s just…head back for now, in the morning we’ll deal with the troubles that are at hand. Feliciano, really focus on resting, all will be revealed at its time,” were her last words before she urged them all to continue upward, even Feliciano who had a reluctance and seemed to stab each step with his worry, anxiousness and fears.

#Feliciano and the King of Hearts #f&tkoh #fatkoh #gerita #gerita fanfiction #gerita fanfic #gerita fic

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